The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-08-07

morning The sun shone with a rich but mel
low light upon the soft. velvety turf, and rifted
itself in gentle spires through the heavy and
interIacing boughs of the great trees grouped
about the open plaza in which the Abbey stands.
winding sheet of water relieved the landscape,
and the musical murmur of its fall into deep
ened pond fell upon the ear with rhythmic ca
dence. The Abbey is not on a commanding site
1t is on slightly depressed plat;
Withal, perhaps it lies little low.
Because the monks preferred hill behind
TO shelter their devotion from the wind.
Above the window of the Abbey which stands
90 the left of the hall is the figure OF the
Virgin with the Child in her arms and below are
the vaulted spaces where the doors once hung,
A quadranguar castellated tower to the right
completes the front view, which is to the west
The hall between the Abbey and tower is of two
Stories and the whole is built of yellowish
sand stone, stained with age, but rich in delicate
tracery, which this stone readily allows.
Really, it is the grounds and the outside of the
building one cares most to and to wander
about: for there is unpleasapttwang about the
perfunctory exhibition of the various rooms and
relics. Icannot say that the housekeeper. who
was our cicerone, WAS at all in keeping
with the place. She was a substantial
matrOn, Dut reasonably Iair, ana Iuiy uItys
There was no poetry about her. To her Byron
was dead. very dead, and doub. whether she
knew who he cared who he was, at
least. We went though the crypt where stuffed
animals and birds, including one lion, tell of the
hunts of Colonel Webb in all the countries Of
the earth. We were taken into the rooms occu-
pied by Charles II. Edward III, Henry VII, and
the Duke of Sussex; showed the
bed wherein the Protector had
slept; the splendid Gobelin tapestries
that adorn these kingly chambers. the colors
of which still bright as ever; into the
grand salon-a grand room indeed-uron the
walls Of which paintings by Vandyke. Hud-
Ter, Lely, Reynolds and others; the coec-
tions of china, and silver. and gold plate, and
Fiorentine table, of lapis lazuli. ag-
ate. and other precious stones, for
which Colonel Webb has refused 100000. We
saw an ivory chair that Tippo Sahib had given
to Warren Hastings, and any amount of other
rich, and rare. and costly articles of vertu. Our
beefeatne dame seemed to more for those
things than for the Byron relics-the plain, cir
cuar table which .Childe Harold and the re.
ply to the English Bards and Scotch Review
ers" had been written; the cup, and saucer, and
plate from which the poet drank and ate his
candlesticks, dress sword sword stick; the cap
he wore in Greece, and collection of his earlier
poems he himself had printed for private dis
tribution. But what brought to the
poet than all else was the piece of beech-now
carefully preserved-in the bark of which Byron
carved his and his sisters name. in
1914, the occasion of his last visit to
Newstead. The letters can be plainly
traced byron" and Augusta" with the
date partially so-"September 20, 1874" This is
the poets bed room just he occupied it. and his
dining room, with portion of the dining service.
brought nearer to the spirit that gives to
Newstead all its claims to Immortality. There
was also the collar OF "Boatswain," Byron's
famous dog and in the bedroom q picture Of
the noble brute, that, somehow other. took
away the interest from other portraits. although
there of the Duke D'Artois that dated
back to the earlier part of the fourteenth GEN.
fury.
With reluctance we babe good by to
these souvenirs and with some pleasure to the
pompous dame, and passed into the much pleas
anter company of the gardener, who is man Of
good parts, and thoroughly rapport with the
place. Under his guidance walked through
the garden paths into the Devils Walk
sombre thoroughfare cut through close erown
trees, entirely hidden from the sun and lighted
only by such intermittent rays as force them
selves through the thicket This was the poets
favorite walk; here is the twin oak under which
he sat, and of which he carved
his Here two grin
ming satyrs brought from Italy, and that are in
grim harmony with the place. We strolled
through that part cf the garden called ''Vene-
tia" where are pieces of Egyptian columns and
a bit of of the Parthenian pillars. This
garden is the locus of one of Disraeli's novels.
We the Byron oak. which was planted by
cfully identified himself in of his despond-
ing poems 1t did not do we'll, and when Colonel
Wildman took possession, he proposed to cut it
down. The gardener told him its history and
now it is one OF the chiefest attractions of New
stead. ranking popular affection with the
willow of Pope and Shakespeares mulberry.
We saw the oak planted by Livingstone when q
visitor here. and a companion planted by
Stanley, who came to Newstead after he found
the lost missionary. Our walk finally wound
up with standing at the monument of Boat
swain" which faces the Abbey window, just on
the spot where the high alter stood In the days
of monastic worship The monument be
plainly seen from the windows of Byron's bed
room, and also from the library. Many times
had the poets eyes looked this tomb upon
which there stands recorded that cynical epitaph
to one who possessed 'all the virtues of man
without his vices" The last two lines tell the
story of Byron's loveless life:
To mark a friends remains these stones arise
l never knew but one, and here he lies.
There many legends and stories connected
with Newstead but it is not worth while to re-
call them. Suffice 1t that we had looked with
our own eyes upon the resplendent ruin which
seems to have been q fitting home, and should
have been the m ausoleum of one even more of
wreck than these towers and battlements. For
some reason or other the poets wish to be
buried here was not respected. He had pre-
pared a vault under "Boatswain'sr monu-
ment which is surrounded by heavy
yews and expresses and stands near
the monks buryng place Byron alludes to his
will and preparation for his sepulture in letter
written after he had sold Newstead to Col